High Dive, Low IQ
by windscryer
Summary: A story of bikinis, marshmallows, and why David Hasselhoff is lucky he's not working at Starbucks. Oh, and a tiny dash of Shawn whump, for flavor, with just a hint of Lassie-torture thrown in for fun. No slash.


Disclaimer: Shawn would still be wearing those orange shorts if I had any say in the matter, believe you me. But I don't, so he doesn't.

Lu. Again. This time blood not required as long as Shawn couldn't breathe.

* * *

"The last time I saw my mother was fifteen years ago."

"No, Shawn, it wasn't. It was three weeks ago."

"Gus, who's telling this story, me or you?"

"Who's telling it incorrectly? You. I'm just editing on the fly."

Shawn glared, but Juliet just giggled.

"Oh my- Do we seriously have to listen to this?" Lassiter demanded.

"No, we don't," Shawn said. "But if you've got something better to do while sitting around a campfire waiting for bank robbers, then by all means . . ."

The sound of the crickets and other night creatures became much more noticeable in the quiet that fell then as the three of them looked at Lassiter.

He sighed. "Fine. Tell your story."

"So, I saw my mother fifteen years ago," Shawn said. "Whether or not it was the last time is up for debate."

"No, it's not," Gus said, settling another marshmallow on his stick and angling it into the fire. "That's fact."

"GUS. Do you want to tell this story?"

"Sure."

Shawn stopped. "Wait, really?"

"If it means we get to hear the correct version, then yes," Gus said, doing that superior head bob thing. No fair. That was not supposed to be used on BFFs. Shawn pouted.

Then shrugged. "Okay then," Shawn said with a wave of his hand. "Go for it."

Gus fidgeted a little in his seat, getting comfortable, then leaned forward. "The year," he said in a low voice, "was 1994-"

"Oh come on! _That_ is your intro?"

Gus sat up and glared. "You said I could tell this story, Shawn."

"Not if you're going to make it into a boring documentary. We're trying to stay awake here!"

Juliet's hand was pressed to her mouth in an effort to stifle the excess laughter trying to break out.

"Don't encourage them, O'Hara," Lassiter said with an annoyed look at her amusement.

"They don't _need_ my encouragement, Carlton," Juliet said, having contained her giggles and now focused on her marshmallow again. Perfect. "I'm pretty sure they do this even when no one is around to see it," she said as she pulled the marshmallow off and licked the gooey mess from her fingers.

"We do," Shawn and Gus said together, though Shawn was beaming and Gus was rolling his eyes.

"See?" Juliet said. She picked up the bag of marshmallows and stuck another one on the end of her stick. "So, it was fifteen years ago . . ."

"We were juniors in high school," Gus said.

"No, Gus, we were seniors."

"Not yet, Shawn. It was summer."

"Yeah, and as soon as the school year ends you advance. Therefore, we were seniors."

"No, you advance when you start the next school year."

"FOR THE LOVE OF-"

"You were between junior and senior year," Juliet said in the interest of her partner not shooting anyone. "I got it. Is that even relevant to the story?"

Shawn and Gus exchanged a look. "No," they said in unison again.

Now Juliet rolled her eyes.

"Okay, so summer of 1994, Shawn met his mother, but not for the last time . . ."

"Actually, she has nothing to do with this story."

Juliet frowned while Lassiter was making that face that said he could _not_ believe what he was hearing. It was a pretty common face, which made no sense because, really, by now he ought to be pretty used to this.

"Then why bring her up?" Juliet asked.

Shawn shrugged. "Eh. It was a really good intro." He looked at Gus in disdain. "Unlike _some_ people who lack creativity in the storytelling department."

Lassiter just groaned and rested his face in the palm of his hand.

"Whatever, Shawn," Gus said. "Just tell the damn story."

"I was a lifeguard," Shawn said.

"In training," Gus added.

Shawn rolled his eyes. "I had the CPR done, Gus. The rest of it was just . . ." He waved a hand. "Earning tenure."

"You also wore orange. Red was for the full lifeguards, orange was for the trainees."

"Does this story have a point?" Lassiter asked from behind his hand. He peeked with one eye through his fingers. "I mean, besides making me want to shoot you both?"

"Yes," Shawn and Gus said.

Lassiter glared. "Stop. Doing. That."

"Okay," they said in unison, then looked at each other, before pointing and looking back at Lassiter. "Not my fault. He copied me."

Juliet patted Lassiter's knee when she could see he was grinding his teeth. "Why don't you go check the perimeter?"

He shot up like a hot spark had landed on his ass and stalked off into the brush without another word.

Juliet shook her head in exasperation, then said, "So you were a lifeguard trainee in the summer of 1994 and your mother was nowhere to be seen."

Shawn was the one sounding annoyed now. "I wasn't a trainee, I was a life-"

"Shawn." It came from both sides.

He put up a hand. "Fine. Whatever. I had faded shorts-"

"And a lanyard," Gus put in.

Shawn glared. "-And a _lanyard_, that made everyone _think_ I was a trainee."

Gus snorted, but kept his peace.

"And I was working the high dive."

Juliet's brows rose. "Wow. Do they normally let trainees work that?"

"I wasn't-" Shawn sighed. "Yes."

"Because by 'working the high dive' he means, 'standing at the bottom of the ladder and telling people when to go'. The deep end lifeguard actually tells you when to let them up."

"You are determined to ruin every aspect of this story that makes me sound cool, aren't you?" Shawn demanded.

"No, just the ones that you're altering for that purpose."

"Whatever. So, I was working the high dive—which is NOT just getting direction from the deep end lifeguard, because the deep end lifeguard that day was Eric Tanner."

Gus frowned, then his head bobbed to the side. "That's true. Eric was the worst deep end lifeguard there was."

"Why?" Juliet asked.

"Well, let's just say he was more interested in perpetuating the 'David Hasselhoff' myth, than actually being a lifeguard," Shawn said.

"The only reason he actually watched the pool was for bikinis that weren't properly secured," Gus clarified, then ate his marshmallow.

"Or too small," Shawn added.

Juliet nodded. "I know the type."

"So I was doing my thing, watching the high dive AND covering for Eric because his tower was surrounded by Pamela Anderson hopefuls and he was too busy tanning in the light of their misplaced adoration, when this kid falls in the water and starts splashing around in panic because he can't swim and it's too deep."

"Eric is too busy with his fan club to even notice," Gus put in.

"So I tell the next girl in line not to go and start yelling at Eric."

"He totally ignores Shawn."

"Waves me off like I'm trying to tell him we're out of paddle boards."

Juliet looked to Gus, fascinated by this back-and-forth storytelling they'd gotten into.

"So Shawn jumps in the water after the kid."

"The deep end of the pool was fifteen feet. And I'm swimming down and down and down because _somehow_ this kid has sunk all the way to the bottom."

"The kid's mom realizes she can't see her son, and starts screaming. Eric _finally_ takes notice that something is going on."

"Meanwhile, I'm down at the bottom of the pool trying to get this kid, but he's panicking and flailing." Shawn waved his arms to demonstrate, the marshmallow on his stick that hasn't spent anywhere near enough time in the fire to even soften a white spot on the end.

"Eric wants to impress the ladies, so he dives in headfirst," Gus says.

"I'm finally able to get a grip on the kid because he's losing consciousness, when he lashes out one more time and kicks me in the gut, totally winding me."

"And who should come along _right then_?" Gus said, rolling his eyes.

"Eric," Juliet said. "Of course."

"Of course," Shawn repeated with a smirk. "He wraps one arm around the kid—who's passed out by now—and one arm around me—who is more than capable of still swimming, even if I couldn't breathe right then, and heads for the surface."

"As soon as they break the surface, Shawn tries to free himself," Gus says, "You know, being able to swim and all now that he has air."

"But Eric, who spent more time in rescue class paying attention to the teacher's bikini than her words, doesn't realize this. He also doesn't seem to know that you can't rescue two people at once because then you have a hard time swimming."

"So their heads keep going under because, of course, it's hard to stay afloat when you've got one person unresponsive, one with both arms full, and one trying to free himself and _not_ drown."

"What a moron! Why didn't he just let you go?" Juliet asked.

Gus' and Shawn's eyebrows went up.

"In front of his fan club?" Shawn said.

"Please," Gus added. "It's so much more heroic if he saves them both. And if he lets Shawn go, Shawn can save himself."

"So what did you do?"

"I started swimming for the side of the pool," Shawn said with a shrug. "It seemed to be the only way I was ever going to get any air."

"Except, to everyone watching, it looks like Shawn is still fighting, and _Eric_ is the one swimming to the side of the pool."

"So we get to the side of the pool, _finall_y and I go to reach for the edge, right? To help us stay above the water line and because _maybe_ Eric will finally stop clinging to me."

"You know," Gus said thoughtfully, "I always wondered if the whole 'girl watching thing' was a just a show. He _was_ very clingy."

"Quite possible," Shawn said.

Juliet rolled her eyes. "So he was clinging to you . . ." she prompted.

They had a very amusing storytelling style, but it still required a fair amount of patience. She wasn't remotely surprised Lassiter wasn't back yet.

"Yeah, total octopus impression going on, and the kid's still unconscious, and I go to reach for the edge, and out of nowhere get shoved under. Like, _hard_."

Gus just shook his head and pulled his now golden marshmallow off to enjoy.

"And I'm kicking, and pushing, and trying to get away because I haven't had a decent breath of air in like, five minutes, and chlorinated pool water isn't exactly a substitute, and my lungs are just on _fire_ because I want to breathe in _so_. _Badly_. But I can't because I'm still underwater."

"What the hell?" Juliet demanded indignantly.

"Eric wouldn't let go of either of them," Gus said. "But the kid was the priority, of course."

"Yeah, so he totally dunks me under so he can lift up the kid to our fellow lifeguards waiting for him!" Shawn said, throwing his hands up in the air.

"That guy sounds dangerous." Juliet said. "Did he get fired?"

Gus and Shawn snorted.

"Are you kidding?" Gus said.

"Maybe if he hadn't been sleeping with the Pool Manager," Shawn said.

"Well, did he at least get in trouble?"

"No, but Shawn did."

"What?!"

Shawn nodded. "Oh yeah. I almost drown _twice_ and Eric says that it was all _my_ fault because, get this: I failed to call for help," he said, ticking off the offense on a finger. "I failed to secure the victim in a timely manner," he said tapping the second one, "and I failed to swim properly, thus endangering both myself _and_ the kid." He added a third and a fourth.

He held up his fingers and wiggled them. "Three strikes against safety is an automatic pink slip."

"That's . . ." Juliet was speechless in her shock.

"Oh no, it gets _better_," Gus said.

Juliet blinked, then tilted her head. "They didn't."

"Oh they _did_," Shawn said. "Eric got an award from the mayor's office for his life-saving efforts."

"And his picture on the front page of the newspaper," Gus put in.

"That's bullshit," Juliet said.

"Pretty much, yeah," Gus agreed.

"Nah, it's okay," Shawn said.

"Shawn, how is that okay?" Juliet asked.

Shawn shrugged. "Everyone gets their fifteen minutes of fame, right?"

"Still, that's not fair. It wasn't your fault, it was his!"

Shawn grinned, finally focusing on roasting his marshmallow. "You know, Jules, you can totally tell him how you feel if you want. He still lives in the area."

She blushed. "I'm not . . . I mean, it's wrong. But I'm not sure hunting him down to yell at him for being a jerk fifteen years ago is exactly, uh-"

"You don't have to hunt him down. You see him every day."

Juliet's brow furrowed. "I do?"

Shawn nodded. "He works at the coffee shop you stop at every morning. He's the one that always forgets your extra vanilla."

Juliet's eyes widened. "That's- He- I- That guy is SUCH a jerk!"

Shawn nodded, and half shrugged, checking on his marshmallow before putting it back in the flames. Almost done.

"He has horrible customer service skills!" Juliet said. "He acts like it's OUR fault as customers that he's got a crappy job at a coffee shop."

"Well, you know what they say about the stars that burn the brightest also burning the coffee," Shawn said, pulling his perfectly toasted marshmallow off and stuffing it in his mouth.

Juliet and Gus both frowned at him.

"What?" he said around a mouth of gooey 'mallow. "They do."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Gus said.

Shawn swallowed and snagged another of the puffy little treats. "Eric. He peaked too soon and burned out all of his . . . successfulnessishness."

Gus was about to point out that that wasn't even possibly a word when Lassiter came back, finger on his lips.

"There are three people over on the western ridge trail," he whispered as he dug his extra clips out. "Spencer, Guster, stay here. O'Hara, let's go."

"But-" Shawn said, already putting aside his stick.

"Shawn. Not now," Juliet said. She checked her gun, then hurried off into the darkness after her partner.

Shawn waited half a minute, then started to get up.

"Oh no you don't, Shawn," Gus said and yanked on his sleeve, bringing him right back down to his spot on the log.

"Gus!"

"Bears, Shawn. I am not being left along in the woods with _bears_."

"We-"

"And I am _not _chasing after bank robbers instead!"

Shawn settled in and pouted. "Man. I never get to have any fun," he complained.

* * *

TEH. END.

There ain't no more so don't bother askin'. I have NO idea what they were doing out there having a marshmallow roast while waiting for bank robbers.

Review, plz&thx!


End file.
